


Refuge Waiting

by SmartyCat



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-04-18
Updated: 2012-03-19
Packaged: 2017-10-29 16:37:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmartyCat/pseuds/SmartyCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes coming full circle isn't so bad. Rain, romance, and one set of shared clothing that just refuses to be returned to its proper owner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sail Your Sea, Meet Your Storm

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter revised November 23, 2005
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** Gundam Wing is owned by Sunrise and Sotsu Agency and distributed in America exclusively under license by Bandai Entertainment. I just buy the merchandise and play with the characters. Chapter titles are from "Harbor," words and music by Vienna Teng, performed by Vienna Teng.  
>  **Chapter Summary:** When Relena turns up on Heero's doorstep during a storm, will he turn her away?
> 
>  __
> 
> For Kaoruwolf  
>  One order of 1xR mush coming right up! Would you like warm fuzzies with that?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Relena turns up on Heero's doorstep during a storm, will he turn her away?

There was nothing like the raw, natural power of a summer thunderstorm to make a person feel warm and protected. If that person were safely indoors, that was.

Relena shivered as another flash of lightning split the sky. She was freezing, and the natural light show was displaying its marvels far too close for comfort! A burst of thunder seemed to explode directly over her head, and she ducked instinctively. It was like being in the war all over again, except this time the war was not waged by men and machines but by nature itself.

The day had started out innocently enough with the usual tightly scheduled meetings and public appearances, but Relena had decided to spend her lunch hour exploring the local scenery incognito and without a bodyguard and without informing her bodyguards or any other personal staff of her plans. To sum up the situation, she was lost, she was wet and cold, and no one knew where to look for her. To add to her misery, she had wandered into a residential district, and the streets were completely empty. Even if any of the neighborhood's denizens had been foolish enough to be out and about in the downpour, none would have been likely to recognize her. There were few similarities between the graceful, composed diplomat the world knew and the soaked, sniffling blonde currently roaming the streets alone.

Relena glared up at the heavens accusingly from beneath her sodden bangs. Just how much longer was this going to last? As if in answer, the heavens opened yet again. Rain lashed at her skin painfully, and she choked back a sob. Although she was immersed in such a dense curtain of falling water that she could only barely make out the buildings across the street, she would not panic.

Something hard struck her head. Relena recoiled violently and felt a strange liquid warmth at complete odds with the coldness of the rain run down her face. Shocked blue eyes focused on the small, hard white ball at her feet.

"Oh, God!"

The young woman spun on her heel, rushing desperately for the single, barely visible warm glow of a house window. She had not seen any overhanging shelter during her stroll down the neat brownstone-lined street, there were no large trees because it was a newly built area (not that she would have stood under a tree anyway because of the very real threat of a lightning strike), and it had to start _hailing_!

The hail began to fall steadily, bouncing off the cobblestone-paved street and battering the lone young woman's body. She covered her head with her arms, but stabs of pain still shot through the rest of her body every time the hail connected. Gathering her strength, she sprinted the last few meters, bounded up the brownstone's steps, and flung her weight at a neat red door.

"Let me in! Please! It's hailing! Please, let me in!" Relena pounded on the wood with both hands and yelled, pleading for someone, anyone, to come to her rescue.

The door abruptly opened inward, and Relena tumbled forward. A strange, thunking noise like a heavy weight hitting a hard surface registered in her consciousness before a pair of strong arms caught her falling body. A faint sound of surprise made Relena look up as her rescuer dragged her safely inside. Familiar intense blue eyes stared back at her, softened by the rare startled expression she so cherished.

"Heero?"

Relena blinked in disbelief then reached up to hesitantly touch a tanned cheek. The young man permitted her fingers to briefly brush his skin before pulling away. He put the sodden girl in his arms back on her feet and stepped back with both hands firmly on her shoulders, staring. Relena shifted nervously under his inspection and felt a blush suffuse her cheeks.

It was so incredibly ironic that out of all the houses she could have run to for shelter, she chose the one where Heero Yuy resided. It was almost like she had radar. It was also rather embarrassing being caught like this, in such an unsettled and disheveled state. Heero looked the same as he had during the war, only taller and better fed, but she currently bore a remarkable resemblance to a drowned cat.

Relena's eyes caught sight of a familiar weapon resting on a low table next to the doorway. She smiled weakly. That explained the strange sound she had heard as she tumbled into Heero's arms. She raised her face up to his, lips twitching faintly.

"Do you always answer your door with a gun?"

Heero released her shoulders, apparently recovered from the shock of catching the famous young diplomat after she tried to break down his door, and walked over to a plain tan couch covered in clean laundry waiting to be folded. He selected a towel and calmly tossed it over her head.

"Only when it's you."

Relena sputtered in surprise and pulled the soft terrycloth away from her eyes. She stared at Heero's face suspiciously. It was just a little too stoic and expressionless to be natural. She grinned.

"Heero, you made a funny!"

One dark eyebrow arched upward at her childish proclamation. He moved back over to her with the deceptively easy grace of a predator. Heero leaned down and positioned his face just inches from her own, staring directly into her eyes.

Relena froze, and her breath caught in her throat when he lightly ran one finger down the side of her face. She shivered and instinctively leaned forward into the soft caress. Heero's eyes darkened into deep midnight pools. His voice was deep and husky. Relena shivered again as his warm breath met her tingling lips.

"Headache? Nausea? Dizziness? Tinnitus? Amnesia? Loss of consciousness?" he demanded.

"No," she breathed, rocking forward onto her toes, drawn to his warmth like a magnet.

"Good. Then you're just bleeding and dripping water all over my floor," he responded brusquely as he raised his right hand into the air between them.

Relena snapped out of her Heero-induced haze and blinked in shock. Her mouth opened and closed several times, but for once she was at a loss for words as she stared at the red staining his fingers. Heero used her silence to his advantage, gently but firmly steering her up a short flight of stairs to the bathroom. He pushed her inside and closed the door, calling through the wood, "You don't have a concussion so take a shower and warm up. Then I'll bandage your head."

Relena listened to his retreating footsteps and sighed before starting the water and peeling her soaked clothes from her clammy skin. She stepped under the warm, soothing shower spray, pulled the opaque frosted glass door shut behind her, and leaned wearily against the tile wall.

So much for the non-existent romantic moment.

Five minutes later, when Relena emerged from the shower, her wet clothes were gone. A large white T-shirt and a pair of gray cotton pajama pants had been set in their place on the sink. After a moment's debate and minimal blushing at the thought of demanding her uncomfortably wet undergarments from Heero, Relena decided that going commando really would be the best decision.

Heero glanced up from his mopping when Relena exited his bathroom in a cloud of steam. He froze. Although he would never admit it, she looked ridiculously adorable trudging down the stairs in his too large clothes with a towel wrapped around her head like a turban. He would also never admit to the faint possessive thrill that he got because she was wearing his clothes.

Relena shuffled self-consciously under his scrutiny. She was quite sure that she looked like an idiot or at the very least a child playing dress-up. The pants were so long that she was walking on them with just the tippy toes of her bare feet visible under the extra material. The shirt completely covered her hips, and its short sleeves came to her elbows, making her feel like she was wearing a tent. A soft, warm, comforting tent but a tent nonetheless.

Heero motioned her over to the now bare couch and leaned his mop against the wall. Relena stiffened as he unwound the towel from her head, letting the soaked golden strands fall freely down her back. A muffled squeak of protest escaped her when he began to vigorously towel the tips dry. He swiftly moved up the length of her hair, his movements becoming gentler as he got closer to her scalp.

The silent man gently patted the skin around her injury with a mostly dry corner of the towel. He pulled her damp hair aside and casually studied the bruised cut high on her temple. Most of the bleeding had stopped, and the wound was clean now so he could bandage it without fear of infection. But just to be on the safe side, he lightly applied some antiseptic from a medical kit on the floor.

Relena made a soft sound of protest at the sting, and Heero unconsciously soothed her. Suddenly heavy eyelids slowly lowered over darkening eyes as he blew on her skin. He had just enough presence of mind to direct his breath away from her wound lest he encourage germs to grow and ended up sighing into her ear. The warmth of Relena's body scorched his lips, and when she turned her head to face him, he found himself drifting in the gentle waters of her questioning ocean blue eyes...

And crashing back to reality when she breathed his name just a hairsbreadth from his own slightly parted lips. He pulled away from her, bandaged the abrasion with clinical efficiency, and abruptly left her alone in the room with the curt excuse that he was going to get some soup. Relena flinched as the door slammed behind him.

Once in the relative sanctuary of his tiny kitchen, Heero collapsed against the firmly closed door. He closed his eyes, covered his face with one upraised arm, and took several deep calming breaths while mentally cursing his damn male body's predictable and natural response to Relena. Which was to say that she still unsettled him after so many years.

He did _not_ want to kiss it and make it better just like he had _not_ had the strange and irrational urge to lick the raindrops from her face earlier. That tight feeling that had clutched his chest when he realized that the bleeding girl in his arms was Relena was _not_ worry and certainly not _fear_. He had _not_ been relieved when he realized that she didn't have a concussion because he had _not_ been worried. And he would _not_ think about the fact that she wasn't wearing anything under his clothes and that when she sat in front of the lamp just right he could practically see her every curve silhouetted against that shirt. Furthermore he denied the existence of denial.

Now firmly composed and more than a little wry, Heero took a waiting container of chicken soup from the microwave and dumped the contents into a mug with a timber wolf logo. He returned to his living room to find Relena curled up on the couch staring at the rain hitting the window. She glanced at him warily from the corner of her eye, and her lips twitched as he shrugged and had the grace to look self-conscious. He handed her the mug, turned off the one light source in the room, and sat down next to her. Relena's free hand brushed against his then retreated. She had accepted his wordless apology, and they settled into a slightly awkward silence in the gray light from the window.

Heero finally interrupted the rhythmic sound of the rain. "I called Une while you were in the shower. She's sent a car to get you. It should be here soon."

Relena blinked and looked at him over the rim of the mug. She smiled and murmured softly, "Thank you, Heero."

Her companion grunted in acknowledgement, and they sat comfortably in the sudden quiet, somehow closer than they had been before, their shoulders touching. The rain lessoned to a light drizzle as they sat together, and Heero left his seat on the couch to watch for the expected car.

Relena gazed at his back for a long moment before turning the empty mug in her hands idly. Her fingers gently traced over the wolf's form as she admired the smooth blend of grays and browns in its fur.

 _Strong._

 _Fast._

 _A fierce fighter._

 _Unbelievably gentle._

 _Beautiful._

 _Proud._

 _Intense._

 _Wild._

 _A lone wolf... like Heero. But wolves were meant to be pack animals._

 _Loyal..._

Sudden realization hit Relena, and she stared at Heero as he opened the door and picked up the shopping bag containing her dried clothes. She walked obediently to his side when he told her it was time to go but stopped on his doorstep. She turned to face him, ignoring the dark car pulling up to the curb. He met her gaze squarely, impassively, his face carefully wiped of all expression.

Relena knew that he was sorry to see her go anyway. She smiled softly and affectionately as she mused aloud, "Don't you think it's odd how we keep finding our way back to one another over and over again?"

Heero's eyes widened when she leaned up and brushed her lips against his cheek. Her hand ran lightly down his arm before she removed the bag from his suddenly weak grip and closed his fingers back around the mug. Then she darted away, and brushed past the silent suit-clad bodyguard holding the car door for her.

Heero watched as the car pulled away, taking Relena with it. He slowly turned to go back into his house when her voice suddenly stopped him. He turned around almost eagerly. Relena was hanging out of the window, her hair whipping into her face.

"Heero, what about your clothes?"

He shrugged and a rare half-smile graced his features as he called back, "Just keep them for now. You can give them back the next time we meet."

His response seemed to stun Relena for a moment. Then her face broke into a dazzling smile, and she waved cheerfully before disappearing into the car once again.

This time Heero stayed and watched until she turned the corner and was gone. He wandered back into his suddenly empty home and absently rinsed out the mug in his hands before refilling it with milk. He abruptly noticed the unread newspaper resting on his kitchen table. An oversized picture of Relena in full diplomatic garb adorned its cover beneath bold text announcing her visit.

Heero's eyes focused on the familiar blue eyes, blonde hair, and classic features as he raised the mug in a silent toast.

 _Over and over again._

 _Always._


	2. The Light in Me Will Guide You Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relena makes a bid for a day of freedom and public service of a different kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter completed October 25, 2009. Over half a decade has passed since this was started. It's about time I finally wrap it up. Just don't expect great things, ok? Feel free to rip and critique to pieces though.

"We are here today to mark the most momentous occasion of the last decade. Historically, this has been a day reserved as sacrosanct by those of particular religious faiths, but those of my generation and yours are united by a bond forged in blood, tears, and metal."

The slender figure stood regally, fair hair blazing in the morning sun, in front of one of the hotel suite's massive windows overlooking the sea. Winter sunlight poured in a warm and blinding arc across the marble floor, unobstructed by the heavy embroidered drapes that had been thrown back and hastily tied to the side. The tableau dazzled the eyes when compared with the intentional gloom of the remainder of the room, and for that reason it made an excellent practice arena for real speeches to be performed on stage or under the glitter of hundreds of cameras. She could not see beyond the sunlit floor, and even it swam within her vision, but that did not matter. She only had to keep her eyes open through the glare in an illusion of sight as her tongue formed what should be the newly familiar words of her latest speech.

She stood tall and proud with her back gracefully curved, shoulders squared, feet braced, and an unneeded notebook held low against her left hip, leaving her right hand free to made grand, emphatic gestures tinged with irritation.

"And so the clouds were lifted, and the sight came true to mine eyes, and I realized that which I had not known before. Yadda yadda yadda, insert appropriately moving ending remark."

Relena Darlian flung the scrawl-covered memo pad at the desk in disgust and stalked across the room in its wake, hitting the wall mount to turn up the lights with the flat of her hand. She yanked back her chair, collapsed into it, and buried her face in her hands. Soft locks of honey blonde hair tumbled over her shoulders, and she curled her fingers in the strands, pulling with frustration.

"I've never had a problem getting the words to come before. Why is it so hard now?" she grumbled and winced internally at the snarl in her voice. Clearly, it was time to take a holiday again away from the cutthroat influence of her colleagues.

Relena forced her breathing to slow, rose, and retrieved her notebook from where she had tossed it, carefully smoothing the crumpled edges of the pages before closing it and setting it beside her computer. She ran her fingers blindly across the top of the desk.

A few years ago even a borrowed hotel desk would never have been so neat and tidy, so barren. However, she had not pursued any office again at the end of her last legislative term, instead choosing the greater personal freedom of a lobbyist and motivational speaker. Since then Relena had been bemused to discover that she held just as much, if not more, influence simply speaking to her former lawmaking peers on behalf of those she represented as she had had when she had been a lawmaker herself. Other politicians proved more willing to act in her favor when they did not feel threatened by her own position of power, something which she rarely failed to exploit on behalf of her clients, having learned her own political lessons quite well.

As one well-manicured nail tapped idly against the desk's surface, she reflected ruefully that the problem this time lay at least in part in that she did not believe in some of the things that she had been paid to say. And if she could not believe in what she said then what good did it do to say it?

With a wrinkle of her nose, she also reflected that there were other thoughts swirling through her mind and chasing on the tails of one another. More than dissatisfaction with the planning and restructuring of her most recent speech preoccupied her thoughts when she stayed in this city. How was he? Did he think of her as often as she thought of him? Had she somehow managed to do any permanent damage to the perpetual, sterile neatness of his most unexpected choice of home? Her lips twitched. Heero in a charming brownstone with a cheerful red door, who would ever have thought it?

Thoughts of Heero inevitably drew her back into thoughts of her teenage years and their accompanying chaos and then beyond that into thoughts of her childhood. Once upon a time she had been privileged and free—Darlian's disobedient daughter—tearing around wherever she pleased with Pagan a constant benevolent shadow. So much had changed. No longer was she known as Darlian's daughter; she had far outshone her well known political father—both of them. Pagan had retired from Relena's service and was currently perambulating about the South African coast with her mother because it was the Christmas season, and since Relena's father's death, nothing said Christmas like being away from the staid, empty house that no longer saw his presence.

Relena slumped against the polished cherry wood of the desk, idly noting how nicely the rich color contrasted with her skin. So dark beneath so pale. So very pale. So long since she had spent any time out in the sun. Her fingers curled beneath her hand, biting into the skin of her palm.

It was time to shake off the cold, to shake off the personal winter that had formed around her. Her life was too ordered, too structured. She never had any free time for herself, and she needed a little normalcy, a little chaos, a little bit of the freedom that Darlian's disobedient daughter had known.

"Nina!"

The call left her throat before she was consciously aware of having the desire, and her personal assistant poked her head in the doorway of the smaller, connecting suite, eyes inquisitive behind wire rim glasses.

"Do I have anything of absolute importance scheduled for the rest of the day?" Relena demanded, fingers tapping a rapid staccato as her mind considered and discarded plan after plan.

The other's eyes glazed over briefly as she made a mental rundown of all of her employer's appointments. "No, ma'am, there's nothing that can't be rescheduled."

"Cancel them all then," Relena ordered, sweeping her eyes consideringly across the room towards the vista view.

Nina blinked in shock and clutched the doorway with white-knuckled fingers. It was unheard of for Relena to cancel meetings!

"Is everything all right, Miss Relena? Has something happened?" she questioned, her voice tinged with poorly concealed alarm.

"Oh, everything is quite all right," Relena assured her before adding under her breath, "or at least it will be."

"Pardon?"

"Just cancel all of my appointments, please, Nina. I won't be available this afternoon. Not to anyone."

"Are you sure, Miss Relena?" Nina asked weakly.

Relena braced her hands firmly on the top of the desk and rose to her full height, meager as it was. Her keen gaze swept the few small stacks of correspondence waiting for her attention, and she smiled faintly.

"All of it will still be here when I come back. I'm sure of that."

Nina nodded and disappeared back around the doorway while Relena looked around herself thoughtfully. Spontaneity was good in its measure, but it always had been following her initial impulses that had gotten her into trouble so often when she was younger. Faint memories of fleeing across the mansion grounds only to be greeted by a pale-haired prince from the stars mingled with the finding of a darker prince washed up on a sunset-drenched beach. She chewed on her lower lip, suppressing a silly, wistful smile lest Nina come back and see her employer mooning in her office, until her eye fell on a canvas bag tucked away unobtrusively behind a potted plant.

Perfect!

Relena laughed aloud before calling, "Nina, do you have your gym clothes with you today?"

"They're in my car," the reply drifted back.

"Well, go get them."

Nina reappeared, a puzzled wrinkle lining her forehead. "Do you want me to put them on?"

Relena smiled at her pleasantly. "Yes, we are going out for lunch, and it can't be looking like this." One graceful hand smoothly indicated their impeccable business suits.

Nina stared at her for a moment then shrugged, already growing accustomed to this newest of eccentricities on the part of a most eccentric employer. "If you say so," she muttered, lapsing into the informality that Relena so encouraged during private moments.

Relena saw her assistant out the connecting suite door and closed it firmly behind her before locking it out of sheer habit. She hummed softly as she crossed to the large windows with the awe-inspiring view of the Mediterranean and pulled the drapes closed.

The bag crackled when she fished it out from its resting place, and a small, fond smile lit Relena's face as she pulled out a white T-shirt. She raised the soft cloth up to her face and inhaled gently. Despite its washing, she fancied she could almost smell him woven into the cotton.

Heero's name rolled off her lips in a long practiced puff of air, and she set the shirt aside, running gentle fingers over it before lifting out the gray pajama pants obtained the same day.

Brief minutes later she emerged from her suite clad in the voluminous white shirt and gray pants, whose waistband she had had to roll to avoid stepping on the hem. The comfortable but hideous suede slides she often wore in the privacy of her office adorned her feet as she strode across her assistant's lodgings and flung open the door to Nina's closet.

Nina emerged from her bathroom dressed in similar, though better fitting, attire and gaped at her employer's appearance. Relena looked thoroughly disheveled and comfortable, completely at odds with her customary prim business suits.

"Miss Relena, where exactly will we be going for lunch?" Nina asked, watching Relena busily dig through the "remainders" box, a treasure trove of lost-and-found left behind by unidentified guests and university interns alike, which Relena insisted be brought along everywhere just in case a reunion was forthcoming.

The younger woman smiled secretively over her shoulder before throwing a random university logo-ed sweatshirt at Nina and pulling another over her own head. She fluffed her hair out before twisting it up and safely tucking it beneath a black cap pilfered from Duo on his last visit.

"You'll see. Leave your purse, and carry your money and keys on your person, please."

"Miss Relena!" Nina protested, but Relena turned her back on the befuddled assistant and strode out the door into the hotel hallway, slides slapping against marble tile.

"Miss Relena, wait! Miss Relena!" Nina glanced despairingly from her employer's rapidly disappearing back to her tidy desk with its agenda and appointment books. "I could get fired for this."

"Nonsense! I hired you!" Relena called back carelessly, laughter bubbling in her voice, and Nina moaned before quickly donning the sweatshirt she'd been given, snatching up her hotel keycard and some cash, and scampering down the hall after her.

Relena moved at a brisk pace, and Nina was panting by the time she caught up with her. Relena slipped out one of the back exits, Nina following close behind and peering around anxiously as she finished stuffing her positions safely away in the depths of the sweatshirt's pockets. Relena did not pause in her progress down the alley to the main thoroughfare, even when Nina's hand snagged her elbow.

"Miss Relena, where is the car?"

"We're not taking the car."

"We're not?"

"We're taking the bus."

Relena said it with such a strange sort of relish that Nina immediately quailed. "I really don't think that's such a good idea. You'll be so exposed and vulnerable and-"

"That's precisely the point. How can I effectively serve if I don't know the people's needs and wants? And how can I ever learn those needs and wants if I never go among them?"

"But Miss Relena-"

"If you don't want to go with me I'll go alone, but I am going."

Nina stared at her helplessly. "I'll go with you, Miss Relena, but I don't think this is a very wise move."

"Wisdom is a surprisingly fickle thing and more dependent on circumstance than people like to acknowledge." Relena's clear blue eyes focused intently on Nina's face. "But if this is not a wise move then neither is it unwise. Call it an accomplishment or a kindness but do not speak of it in terms of wisdom."

"I don't understand."

Relena smiled beatifically. "You will, and believe me, the outing will do both of us good."

* * *

 _"Bring me flesh, and bring me wine,  
Bring me pine logs hither;  
Thou and I shall see him dine,  
When we bear them thither."  
Page and monarch, forth they went,  
Forth they went together;  
Trough the rude wind's wild lament  
And the bitter weather!_

The bus ride proved to not be tediously long or uncomfortable, much to Nina's surprise, but Relena was in her element. From the moment she settled on a worn and slightly ripped bench at the front of the bus, she proceeded to engage the driver in a surprisingly philosophical conversation concerning the relevance of a unified world nation while simultaneously cooing over every toddler that came on board. And that was before a wizened grandmother led the young Vice Foreign Minister in a clear soprano rendition of traditional Christmas songs!

After Relena and the elderly woman finished their version of "Good King Wenceslas," Relena bumped Nina's shoulder with her own. "Cheer up, Nina! It's a beautiful day, and we're out of that stuffy old room."

"Yes, Miss Relena, that lavishly appointed, absurdly comfortable hotel suite was indeed stifling. The pillows alone would have been the death of me before the end of the week. Thank you kindly for this timely rescue," Nina responded dryly, uncoiling from her slouch against the window and stretching lavishly. "I wish I knew where we were going."

Relena's forehead crinkled and her lips curled in delight at her assistant's droll rebuff and rumpled appearance, so different from her usual exceedingly proper professionalism. Nina's cheeks darkened under her employer's amused scrutiny, and she snorted and folded her arms, tilting her face away from Relena's knowing smile.

"I told you that you'd find out when we got there," Relena reminded her. "Well, we're here. Come along, Nina. We're going to accomplish something."

'Here' proved to be a plain brick building downtown with various less than reputable looking people ensconced comfortably in the sunlight on the steps leading up to the entrance. Nina eyed it and them doubtfully as she hopped from the bus steps onto the pavement. They gazed back at the two young women in mismatched, over-large lounge and exercise attire with mild curiosity.

"That's wonderful, Miss Relena, but couldn't we have accomplished something somewhere else?"

Relena laughed. "Oh, Nina, you worry too much! Come on!"

She marched up the steps, giving polite greetings to the people there as she maneuvered around them and leaving Nina with no choice but to follow her. Nina plastered a smile that largely a grimace onto her face and strode in Relena's wake, taking exaggerated care not to step on or in any other way offend their watchers.

The interior of the building was a large open space, rather worn and drab, lined with long cafeteria tables. Nina glanced around in bewilderment. Surely her employer did not want to eat here. "Miss Relena, what is this place?"

"This is a soup kitchen, and we are going to help give out food to the homeless."

"What?"

Relena ignored her assistant's small squeak of surprise and strode ahead to the food line. An older man turned to face her, looking her up and down with a discerning, critical eye. Relena clucked internally. Such suspicion. She would almost prefer for him to blatantly challenge her out than look at her with such distrust. Then again, he had no reason to trust her. For all appearances she was just another rich kid slumming for a day, and that was not really so very far from the truth.

She gave him her best smile and stuck out her hand. "Hello! I'd like to volunteer as a server, a cook, anything." She thumbed behind her at the rather mortified Nina. "My friend will help too."

* * *

Heero collapsed on his couch with a tired sigh, aimlessly switching on the television and flipping to the news channel. He left the oddly comforting buzz of the television on as he wandered into his bathroom and showered briskly. He turned off the stream of water and stepped out onto the cold tile floor, wrapping a towel around his lean hips before padding out into the hallway to get some orange juice from the kitchen.

"Well, John, this is no doubt one of the more uplifting stories we've covered recently."

"You're certainly right, Jana. It appears that Relena Darlian has been volunteering at the Portside Soup Kitchen. Our resourceful Todd Gallant saw through her apparent disguise and caught these images of our own Dove of Peace dishing out the afternoon meal."

The glass shattered on the floor beside Heero's feet as he stared dumbly at the images on his screen: Relena among a group of homeless people, Relena playing with grubby children, Relena singing into a ladle, Relena looking very little like a worldly diplomat, Relena in his clothes with her hair shoved beneath a hat, Relena, just Relena.

And in their idiotic desperation for a story, those damned reporters had blown her cover!

He growled and stalked into his bedroom, the door slamming viciously behind him.

* * *

Relena watched the same broadcast some miles away, her face an impassive mask. Nina fluttered nervously behind her, bemoaning the inevitable loss of her job.

"Well, now everyone knows," Relena's quiet, resigned statement broke her assistant's babbling. "We won't be able to go back again without an escort." She shrugged, a wry smile tugging at her lips. "I'll just have to put them to work too."

"Except they won't let you go back. It's too dangerous."

Relena looked up at the dark man lounging lazily in en suite doorway while Nina paled and gaped.

"Heero, don't you ever knock?"

"No," he responded, straightening and striding into the room.

Relena bounced to her feet with her pleasant diplomatic smile, very subtly positioning herself between her startled assistant and the intruder. "Did you come for your clothes? I have them right here." She leaned down and scooped up the neatly folded pants and shirt from a basket by the bed. Nina goggled at the intimacy implied.

Heero narrowed his eyes at her in a long familiar warning that she had never once heeded. "That's not why I'm here, and you know it." He turned his sharp glare to Nina. "Get out."

The force behind the statement was impossible to ignore, and Nina looked at Relena worriedly even as she obediently sidled toward the door, careful to keep a wide berth between herself and the man Relena had called Heero.

Relena placed the clothes on the bed and waved Nina on before folding her hands primly in front of her and staring at them both from beneath demure, down-turned lashes. "It's all right, Nina. There's no need to be worried on my account or to call for guards. Heero's an old friend. He won't hurt me . . . unless of course it's a very little death."

Nina turned bright crimson as the French words rolled off Relena's tongue, stammered an apology, and bolted out the door.

Heero's fierce gaze never left Relena's face, and his voice when he spoke was quite conversational. "I should shoot you for that remark."

Relena chuckled. "It accomplished your goal didn't it? There was far more harm done to my reputation than yours, and I'm sure that I've made much graver offenses over the years. You haven't shot me for any of them. So to what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Heero?"

He walked fully into the room, shutting the door behind him and locking it. "You know what."

"Do I? Please enlighten me, Heero," she responded, cocking her head to the side and perching on the bed like an eager pupil awaiting instruction.

"Don't pretend ignorance, Relena. You know how dangerous it is for you to be out in public unescorted."

"Ah, yes, that. You didn't seem anywhere near so concerned about my escort when I showed up drenched on your doorstep that time."

He raked a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly. "That was different."

"No, it wasn't. I was wandering alone through the city, a strange city might I remind you, and dressed in my normal diplomatic attire. Anyone could have recognized me. At least this time I made an attempt to stay anonymous, and I had Nina with me."

Heero snorted. "And she could have protected you?"

"We were in no danger; I didn't need protecting!" Relena responded with a flare of temper that she quickly reined in and tamped down. Only the heat in her eyes remained as she humorously added, "However, if you must know, when she screams she can hit decibels that make ears bleed. You can sit down now, Heero."

He shot her a sharp look and slowly eased down onto the very foot of her sumptuous, excessively large hotel bed. Relena grinned impishly at the vast expanse of space separating them before crawling down the coverlet and perching beside him.

"Your clothes really are wonderful, Heero," she began conversationally. "I almost don't want to give them back to you. I love how they feel against my skin, so very comfortable. Nothing at all like those stiff, itchy business suits I usually wear all day."

His hand clamped down on hers, cutting off her stream of words. "You're avoiding the issue."

Relena sighed. "There's no need for you to worry. It won't happen again because no one will let it. I'll be observed more closely than a lab specimen. I wish I could be like you and slip around unnoticed as it pleases me. Do you have any idea what it's like, Heero? Living under constant surveillance, constant scrutiny? Being the one surveyed and not the surveyor?"

"When you look at me," his eyes carefully avoided hers as his grip on her hand gentled, "it seems like you can see all the way down to my soul, like I can't hide from you, like you always know what I'm thinking. It is not pleasant."

Relena laughed, a startled, breathless noise, and touched his knee hesitantly with her free hand. "I don't know what you're thinking now."

He leaned over her, cupping her cheek in his palm. Relena stared at him with wide blue eyes as his face drew ever closer. He pressed his forehead to hers, their noses lightly brushing and their breath mingling together.

"I'm thinking that this is a bad idea."

And with that he was gone, leaping from the bed and darting across the floor with an economy of movement that was impressive to behold. It was only after he had gone that Relena was able to quiet her senses enough to focus on her immediate surroundings. Unexpected evening rain pattered on the windowsill beneath an open window, and the voice of one of the hotel security staff crackled over the intercom system. She inhaled deeply, raggedly, and responded with quiet conviction that she had noticed no disturbance in her suite and that there must have been some brief, hopefully temporary, malfunction in the security system.

As she sat in the new quiet, fingers stroking idly across the folded shirt and pants atop her bed, a slow grin spread across her face. "He forgot his clothes," she murmured quietly, bubbly delight ringing in every syllable. "He forgot his clothes!"


	3. All I Want Is to Be Your Harbor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was plagued by more hard drive crashes, accidental deletions, and one broken travel drive than any fic has a right to be. But now it's _finally_ done, and I hope those of you who've waited for so many years while I played fandom hermit and suffered through undergrad and graduate school get some enjoyment from this.

"It's raining again, almost like it was before," Relena remarked to herself as she strolled down the street at a deliberate pace, taking in every detail of the young but gracious neighborhood.

Heero had chosen a surprisingly charming place to live, with its imitation cobblestone streets and rows of small, tidy brownstones whose builders had gone to great trouble to blend the new construction with the buildings that had survived the war. As Relena waved back to a small child perched in a window seat with a kitten, paired noses pressed dolefully against the wet glass, she stifled a giggle. She could not quite resolve her mental image of Heero in a brownstone, but such was life, full of little idiosyncrasies—one of which was the steady spring rain beating a firm staccato rhythm atop her umbrella. 

Few other people were out and about on such a dreary day, and none of them over the age of eight gave more than a passing glance to the meandering blonde dressed like the typical young business woman. If her suit's cloth was a little too fine, the cut a little too well-tailored, and her hair a little too well-coiffed, only prolonged observation would have revealed it. Relena had absolutely no need to wear wealth and power like a mantle.

As pleasant as it was to be unrecognized and left to her own devices, a tiny fragment of dread swelled with each step closer to her destination. Lack of recognition was one thing; lack of welcome was another thing entirely. Unless Heero proved to be clairvoyant there was no way he could be expecting her. Hopefully, his reaction to seeing her would fall somewhere on the spectrum of positive emotions.

Relena sighed and shifted the bag on her arm before checking a small square of paper. Almost there. One more turn of the corner, pause to check the street sign, and yes…

Such moments of near panic surely were meant to be savored, but the moment needed to end sooner rather than later, while her nerves remained strong. Relena pressed the closed fist clutching the paper scrap against her chest, feeling her heartbeat speed up in an attempt to outrace the rhythm of the rain, as she resumed walking. She measured her steps by the puddles, allowing the water to splash against the legs of her pantsuit and anchor her to the present with their sodden, uncomfortable weight.

She stopped outside one otherwise inconspicuous home, notable only for its absence of plants and the presence of a vivid red door, made a mental note to speak with Heero about the joys of urban gardening, and conducted one final check of the wrought iron numbers over its door with the numbers on her paper.

"Well, this is it," Relena muttered under her breath. She then squared her shoulders and raised her chin determinedly before marching up and banging the knocker against the door.

She only saw the subtle, mysterious shift of the window curtains to the right of the entrance because she had been looking for it. As the moment stretched out into long seconds with no change to the unyielding barrier that was the door, she debated the merits of pressing her own eye to the peephole. Better yet—with an impish smile and a smart flick of the wrist, Relena leveled the top of her umbrella at the door and sent it spinning.

"Does this look at all like a kaleidoscope?" she called conversationally, as rain briskly dampened her hair and suit.

The door opened just enough for one familiar, beloved dark blue eye to glare out at her.

"What are you doing?" Heero's disembodied voice issued forth.

Torn between mild irritation, fond amusement and sheer, jangling nerves, Relena swung her umbrella back over her head properly, pasted on her best diplomat's smile, and stepped forward. "Hello, Heero, so nice to see you too. Do you mind if I come in?"

"You shouldn't be here, Relena." The eye narrowed behind the solid bulk of the door.

Relena juggled her umbrella into the crook of her elbow and placed the flat of her hand against the wood of the door, exerting no force but feeling no outright rejection in return Indeed, if she was not mistaken, there was even the slightest waver of the wood inward. A good sign. He did not know it, but he was already yielding. She debated the merits of sliding one of her feet into the narrow open space as she responded, "Well, you know how the circumstances of my last visit weren't exactly ideal. I just thought we might catch up on old times, share some coffee, you know, things normal people do. I would have called in advance if I'd known how to reach you. It's only fair, given the way you pop up in my personal quarters whenever you'd like."

He ignored the reproach, and she watched as he shuffled to the side slightly, the better to peer through the narrow opening and around her. His eyes scanned the rainy street and found nothing. "Where are your guards?"

"Heero, really! I resent the implication that I cannot travel on my own." She glared back at him before waving one hand airily in the direction from which she had come. "My very small security detail is about four blocks over buying bagels. At least someone has faith that I behave myself in public if unsupervised for a few minutes." 

"What? What are you thinking?" Heero wrenched open the door and loomed over her. The way in which she stood on a lower step magnified the normally slight difference in their heights, and Relena tilted her head back to maintain the locked combat of their eyes, her nose wrinkling with distaste as a raindrop hit the end of it squarely. The umbrella rolled in the crook of her elbow, and she readjusted it with a grumble, debating the merits of shaking it at his nose.

"Well, I didn't believe you'd appreciate having a houseful of strangers, and Mother always told me it was extremely rude for an uninvited guest to show up with more guests."

A faint twisting on the left corner of his mouth. Exasperation. Fond exasperation, perhaps.

He raked a hand through his hair with a mutter that sounded suspiciously like "still foolishly brave" and shuffled back half a step. "Relena, you're not supposed to wander around the city without your guards."

Time to move to step two. He possessed sympathy; he just rarely showed it overtly. She cocked her head to one side as she folded her umbrella, the steady patter of the rain quickly dampening her shoulders, returning his exasperated glare with wry amusement. His expression turned openly quizzical at her apparent desire to stand unprotected in the rain, and she pondered how offended he might be if she said he looked cute that way. It was true, though; he did. 

"Don't be ridiculous, Heero. I imagine that I'm quite safe here." Relena bounced a step higher, putting herself awkwardly close to him on the narrow landing.

Internal triumph bloomed in her chest at the startled widening of night blue eyes. Oh, how she enjoyed throwing him off guard and how rarely she accomplished it. He may have been a guerilla fighter, but she would be master of peaceful takeovers.

One of her hands skimmed up his chest—his heart beating a galloping tattoo beneath her fingers and his eyes going wider than should be humanly possible—before she shoved him quite firmly back into the entryway. She surged after him, not willing to give an inch while she had him caught by surprise. While entrance without the use of force would have been vastly preferred and was indeed her usual modus operandi, ex-Gundam pilots sometimes did not recognize finesse in handling. All things considered, it was rather refreshing to get to be blunt for a change.

Heero blinked, thrown off guard by her forward and highly unexpected actions. Quickly recovering, he pinned her back against the door once she had closed it.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Relena glanced at his hands on her shoulders, raised one eyebrow, then nonchalantly ducked under his arm and began heading for the kitchen.

"Relena!"

"Goodness!" she called back. "Did Heero Yuy just raise his voice at me? Someone really must teach you better manners, particularly when you have guests over." 

He stormed in the small room behind her. "You need to leave. I didn't invite you, and no one knows you're here. You need to leave while it stays that way. Get out of my kitchen—"

"Get out of your house, get out of your _life_? Oh, yes, that's all well and good, but you'll have to stay out of _mine_ , too." 

He fell silent abruptly, standing a short distance away, his hands slowly curling into fists at his sides. His face was carefully blank, but Relena thought she saw a faint flicker of some emotion in his eyes.

"Do you really want me to go, Heero?"

Relena stepped back from him, slowly widening the gulf between them, letting him get a taste of the distance and scanning his stern, immovable, gorgeous face in an attempt to judge his response. She had taken so many calculated gambles over the years; what was one more? Amazing how a girl could become so used to playing with fire.

"You shouldn't be here," he stated quietly, but his eyes dropped from hers before he said it.

"That doesn't answer my question," retorted Relena. "Do you really want me to leave? I will if that's what you want."

He gaze shot back up at the edge in her tone, and he glared at her before sinking down on one of the hard chairs and burying his head in his hands. Relena tapped her foot in a light, fast staccato rhythm on the linoleum, and he stared at her from between his fingers.

"Why can't you just speak on one level?" Heero muttered.

Relena turned away from him, put down her bag and umbrella, and began to busy herself at the counter. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do. You're saying one thing, but you really mean another and expect me to know what the other is too."

She laughed softly, a minor bitter sound, and yanked down a coffee cup from where they hung on hooks below a cabinet. "You're making this much too difficult, Heero. Do you really want me to leave? Consider it this way: do you object to me being here at all or do you object to me being here _alone_? If it's the former, I'll go, but if it's the latter… You may not have noticed it, Heero, but I've aged right along with you and I believe I'm considered an adult now and capable of making my own decisions."

"Yes," he snarled up at her. "No! Damn it!" He shoved away from the table, his chair clattering on the floor, and stalked over to where she had poured a cup of coffee from the coffeemaker. He took his cup from her hands, finely held restraint showing in the minute trembling of his fingers, and set it on the countertop. He turned her to face him, fingers braceleting her wrists. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Her eyes widened as his hands tightened around her wrists, but her mask of innocence stayed firmly in place. "I really don't know what you're talking about."

"Liar." Heero pulled her up on her toes, pressing his forehead firmly against hers as he had done before during every meaningful but cryptic conversation they'd ever had. 

She stared at him, so close that she could see all the fine gradients of color in his dark eyes, eyes which were dilated to maximum levels.

"You wound me," she whispered, watching the flare of light and color in his eyes shift as the warm puff of her breath rolled across his mouth.

One of his hands left her arm and cupped her cheek, stroking coarse fingers along the fineness of her skin.

"That's nothing compared to what you do to me."

Her eyes widened at the husky words whispered against her skin, and she trembled beneath his hands. It felt wonderful to have him so close to her, so warm and solid. Her mind screamed denials as she rocked forward onto the balls of her feet into the living wall of his body, like one magnet drawn to another. No, no, she was the one who was supposed to be keeping him off balance. That was the way to defeat a worthy opponent.

"Heero, I—"

"Shhh..." he hushed her, closing the scant distance that remained between him. She watched his eyes his eyes fall closed in a fascinating sweep of lashes, and then her own world went dark as hers followed. He delicately trailed his mouth over her chin and up to her lips, planting tiny kisses along her jaw. His lips brushed over hers teasingly, light butterfly touches that left her frustrated.

She voiced a plaintive demand for more in the back of her throat, and he pulled her into his body, both of them stumbling backward. Mouths sealed together, hands stroking across clothing and available skin, he backed her haphazardly but steadily until her back hit the wall. The kiss then became suddenly deeper, hungrier, and she felt like she was falling into an abyss.

Then Relena realized she really was falling or at least stumbling backward as the wall behind her disappeared.

Relena blinked, startled at her sudden reemergence into the land of water, the rain having picked up while she was otherwise occupied. She stared, disoriented and disbelieving, at the closed red door in front of her. Relena shivered in the rain, her skin instantly clammy and cold where his had burned against her in comparison.

"Heero! Heero, what are you doing? At least give me my umbrella!" 

She beat on the door, and it opened inward suddenly. Strong arms caught her and hungry lips fastened over her own as a sudden weight was shoved into her stomach. Then Heero was gone , and the door closed once again against her. Relena looked down at the bag in her arms. He had given her his clothes back. "Heero, these are your clothes! I came to give them back. You were supposed to keep them!"

"Go back to your guard."

"No!"

"Leave!"

She glared at the closed doorway and flicked soaked strands of hair away from her face. However, she could not help a flush of pride in him at the way he had handled her. He had outmaneuvered a master manueverer and beaten her at her own game, and it had been thoroughly delightful. She would let him savor his victory for now, but it would be short-lived.

"There may be hope for you yet, Heero Yuy."

* * *

Heero watched her leave, stepping delicately around the puddles in the street, her head and shoulders set stubbornly, her back straight, as the rain fell upon her exposed form. It was a mistake. All of it. He should have just shot her years ago when he was still able to do it, but the thought of a world without her left a strange hollow feeling in his chest, and the idea of him actually harming her left him feeling surprisingly nauseous. It had started when he was still a teenager, waging and raging in guerrilla warfare and only grown in intensity the longer he observed her and her accomplishments.

This was a relatively new concept, although he was quite sure that he had a fairly solid idea of what it was that ailed him when it came to a certain young, stubborn, incredible politician. He had both taken joy in and been disgusted by the killing he had done, but nothing felt like this. The closest he could recall was the accidental death of that little girl and her dog, and that had been the result of a grave miscalculation on his part.

Just like admiring Relena.

Just like following Relena.

Just like looking for excuses to sneak in to see Relena.

Just like _kissing_ Relena.

He never should have done that.

Never.

But it had felt very nice; he could not deny that to himself when his blood still beat with the memory of her. Even now he could still taste her, smell the scent of shampoo and rain lingering in her hair, feel her body fitted snugly against his. And in that moment when she had started kissing him back, when she had demanded more without words... He had come remarkably close to losing his control, and it had been difficult to push her away.

Of course, she almost certainly didn't take the hint. She never had. Or maybe she had taken the hint, but he'd been sending out the wrong signals all this time. Didn't she realize he didn't want his clothes back? That the thought and scent of her would burn him every time he touched them?

Whatever the case, she would no doubt show up on his doorstep again.

He groaned and then couldn't suppress a pained chuckle as a firm knock sounded on the door. He had not expected her back quite this soon.

The knock sounded again as he dragged himself up from the floor of his entrance hallway where he had been slumped contemplating one of the more major of his many mistakes.

"Heero, we've been through this. I know you're in there. My umbrella, if you please," Relena called through the door, sounding distinctly peevish.

Heero opened his door with a resigned sigh.

And very nearly shoved it closed again in her face.

Relena was once again on his doorstep, alright, but she had somehow managed to lose her soggy business suit and was wearing his clothes again. She had also brought along her previously errant guard—Duo flicked two fingers to his forehead in greeting and salute while his mouth busily demolished a bagel—and a small camera crew...

"Relena, what are you doing?"

"You were so fixated on me having an escort. I thought this was what you wanted."

He gave her his best glare, but she met it equally.

"Heero, all you had to do was let me give you your clothes back."

He raised an eyebrow, unsure of what that had to do with her wearing them. Now was obviously the time to tell her that he did not want them back, ever. He opened his mouth to reply.

"And the only way you're getting them back now is if you take them off me."

Heero's mouth snapped closed with a sharp click. His mind boggled at the implication as her words and the mental images that accompanied them caught up with his brain.

Relena drew closer after her calculated gamble, up one of the steps, pitching her voice low enough that the crowd of onlookers could not overhear. She had the exceptionally rare pleasure of seeing Heero's eyes widen in shock and a blush—of all things, a _blush_ —suffuse his face. His mouth moved as he stared at, her but no sound emerged.

"If you want them back," she purred softly, staring up at him like he was her dearest friend in the world and she adored him and would do unspeakably wonderful things to him if only given half a chance, _laughing_ silently up at him in a ridiculous well of emotion that he could feel rising within his own chest, "well, I'm sure you'll figure out a way..."

Maybe, just maybe, he really did want his clothes back after all.

His eyes wandered back to the small crowd of onlookers, mental calculations on a mad scramble through his mind. She still had a reputation to consider, whether she seemed to think so or not. The public persona he had constructed for himself after the war was respectable enough, if no one spectacular, but jerking her in was not an option, likewise shoving her back down to the street.

Duo's grin caught his attention as the other man stretched his arms above his head, one thumb jerked out towards the camera crew. "Trust me," he mouthed, and Heero chuckled out loud at that.

Relena looked up at him too, her hands twisting in the too-long hem of his shirt. "You worry too much," she said softly. "We're not weak or fragile, none of us. An association with you, however intimate, however public, will not ruin me. I'd like to think it wouldn't break you either. If you want it, if you want _me_ , let me in."

Eyes smoldering, Heero yielded ground, stepping back and letting the door swing open. Her eyes grew large this time, and he stared, fascinated, at the movement of her throat as she swallowed.

She stepped through, her body brushing against his in the narrow entry, and he shut the door behind them.

_Finis._


End file.
